Frozen Princess
by Megan Ingram-Jones
Summary: Set before the first Thor movie. After being sent to Jotunheim to retrieve an artefact belonging to Asgard, what happens when Loki stumbles upon a stranger? Is she all that she seems? How did she end up there?


Prologue

Icy landscapes and black rock were the only things she could see from her window and it wasn't a nice view. Day after day she would spend in this room. Like a prisoner, only she knew prisoners were treated better than she was; at least on Earth they were. Earth, her home, yet she could not remember much about it. A scared ten year old, running from a monster was all she was when they took her. Now, she barely sees the monsters but she always hears them whispering outside her door. Whispers of a princess, a new heir to the throne but she didn't know what that meant. Were they speaking about her? About another girl, locked in this castle that overlooks wasteland? Or was she the new heir?

Eight years in total, at least that's how long she counted as she marked the walls with pieces of chalky material she found on the cold, stone ground. Cold; a feeling she forgot shortly after arriving here. Spending day after day in a freezer would probably freeze a normal person but, not her. Many times she felt frozen, paralysed, especially in the first few years. Eventually, around her fourth year here, the cold disappeared. There's no warmth but no more cold either. Longing for the sensation to return she would often sneak out of the window and find some frozen land and just sit; sit until the cold returned and numbed her body like it should do. After a while that stopped too. Sitting on frozen ground no longer numbed her, she felt nothing and before she could try another method, bars were placed on her window, guards positioned at the door.

She'd often dream of home, even with her fading memories. Her mother's grin, her father's laugh, her sister's... well, her sister was the first the fade away. The knowledge that she had a sister was still present in her mind, yet she couldn't conjure up even a flicker of an image, which led to a lot of doubts whether she did in fact have one. Except, yes, she did. She would not have dreamt her up to fulfil some twisted fantasy of home.

Fantasy; the word sounds pleasant, inviting, warm, yet her fantasies never were. Even when she dreamt of home, the smiling faces which were slowly fading, the monsters always came for her. No matter what she dreamt, not matter what she envisioned, they always came for her in the end. How had they gotten to her dreams? She was always told that dreams were escape routes; whenever life is pushing you down, just dream and everything will be better. Not this time; no, this time, reality was taking over the dream, twisting it into a nightmare she could never escape from.

Reality in itself is a strange concept. She often felt she was dreaming this place; hopefully, one day, she would wake up in a hospital bed, her mother beaming over her telling her about the coma she had fallen into; except, the pain is too real to be dreams. The pain from the injections, the blue neon liquid that fills her veins every evening turning her into something else and returning the sensation of cold, which runs through her veins for several hours after. What is she now? The constant question on her mind. Is she even human anymore?

All the mirrors had been removed since her first injections, a mere two years ago. After the first injection, she had broken several mirrors after seeing her reflection. Firstly, she thought she had become a Smurf but she knew that wasn't true. What they had transformed her into wasn't anything nice. Nothing this cold is nice. The desire for the cold she once had was diminished once they started her injections then, they started her lessons.

She estimated her lessons to be once every week, although the exact day is still unknown. Her lessons consisted of using her new found abilities and creating new ones. The ice that flows through her veins after every injection is put to use; freezing objects, sometimes other monsters and even creating weapons. More effort was put into learning her other abilities, which consisted of only one at the moment; illusions.

Illusions; the ability which did not belong to the monsters that stole her. No, there was another tutor for her illusions lessons. Blonde waves, usually tied back, reaching the middle of her back; the tutor was beautiful and looked the same age as her own mother. Strangest part of all was the fact that she looked, _human_. From her oval face, her pointed features, to her medieval styled clothing. This woman was no monster, yet something about her screamed that she was not human either. She had been the friendliest of the strangers; always smiling, usually with pity but smiling nonetheless. Even in the way she spoke she was friendly, kind, always concerned.

She no longer visits. The illusions lessons were finished, according to the monsters outside the door. It was their whispers that told her, not anyone else. Nobody spoke to her, the possible heir to a wasteland, only the one kind tutor.

Now, after eight years of imprisonment, she stares out the window as usual; chin resting on her handing, kneels pulled tightly to her chest with an arm wrapped around them. In the distance, a strange bright light bursts from the sky, slamming into the ground. Maybe her lessons aren't over after all. The familiar light breeds no hope, however; just more exhaustion at being kept in the dark.

Moving her hand slowly from her chin, she is ready to prepare herself for the new lesson. A glimpse of movement catches her eye and she returns her gaze back to the barren landscape; a stranger, armoured, red cape flying and a hammer in hand is approaching the castle. Behind him, five other people follow in his stride, all wearing armour, all looking as if they stepped out of a medieval novel; all looking human.

No, wait, there's only four. Where did the fifth member go? Intrigued, she sits back on the window ledge and watches. Her "father", as she was told to call him, approaches the group, a grin so wide she's afraid it'll split his face. His voice booms and shakes the windows as he says, "Welcome, Odinson, what do I owe the honour?" He laughs, mocking the stranger.

The stranger holds the very large hammer in front of him but before he can say anything, one of his friends steps forward. A woman's voice, she replies, "We are not here to fight, Laufey. We have come for something that belongs to Asgard. Return it and we can keep the peace."

Before the ice princess can hear her father's reply, there are loud _thumps _outside her door; two loud _thumps_. Warily, she approaches the door when it slams open, revealing the fifth member of the group; the one that disappeared.

"Who are you?" Her first words in a long time; no wonder her voice sounds hoarse.

The stranger grins, his thin lips spreading across his pointed face, his curly black hair bouncing on his ears as he chuckles. "Why, I'm here to save you."

Three steps is all it took for the tall stranger, in gold and green armour, to stride across the room and grab her hand. Then, he did something that shocked her, something she thought only her strange tutor could do, taught her to do; he disappeared and took her with him.


End file.
